


Blackbird

by Measured



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Family Issues, Gay Parents, Gen, Parent-Child Relationship, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3109556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You weren't the only one who lost a mother, you know." Severa and Cynthia navigate grief, sisterhood, meeting their mothers from the past, and try to forge an uncertain future for themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackbird

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the Harvest scramble talk. For floopers in Nagamas: winter edition. Thanks to Lin for the beta.

1\. The Tremulous Present.

Severa tried to make the dirty camp her own, but mud always tracked in on her new rugs or blanket rolls with delicate patterns. Not even in this world could she have a little bit of beauty without the Risen coming and ruining it.

It was a borrowed world. She always had to remind herself that. 

Cynthia came into the tent without knocking, looking a fright. Muddy knees, dirt streaked cheeks and hay in her hair. Like she'd lost a fight with a barn. She smelled even worse.

Severa drew back in disgust. "What did you do, roll around in the hay like a barn cat?"

"I fell!" Cynthia sounded so proud, as if she'd done something truly marvelous, and not something stupid. She giggled with a snort. Hay dropped from her messy, tangled ponytails. Severa could only roll her eyes. She wasn't even surprised. 

Severa pulled out a comb inlaid with shimmering sea shells from her new leather satchel---all gifts from pathetic admirers who thought she wouldn't notice them flirting on every other girl. She wouldn't let her disdain get in the way of parting them from their gold. If they wanted to be fools, then so be it.

Who cares if a liar's gift got sullied? She'd just sell it for money next time she wanted something else she couldn't afford. No use keeping around a gift given to all the girls for a kiss or something more.

" _Fine_ , I'll fix it. Just like I have to fix all of your other messes."

Cynthia didn't even protest to her tone, because she was too distracted by a fleeting thought of gods and heroes. She was always like this, falling into some fairytale land where happy endings existed. And Owain just made her believe the same hogwash he did. Like they could change anything. Even if they saved the world, their parents would still be dead.

"Wipe that smile off your face---and stop fidgeting. You're not a child, though I sure wouldn't know that from how you act," Severa said.

"I can be serious, and I can be still," Cynthia said. She put on her most serious face, and looked more like Morgan whenever she was up to some prank and trying to keep the catlike grin off her face.

"Good, pretend there's a monster or something. It'll eat you up if you don't sit still," Severa said.

She'd repeated that same game so many times. Even back then she'd mocked the fairy tales dreams, and played the part of the ice queen, evil witch or dragon. Sometimes all three. 

For a long time, she couldn't even bear to look at Cynthia. It was a twist of a knife, the constant stabbing guilt reflected in her brilliant red hair. But stupid Cynthia hadn't even noticed. She'd been too busy with her pathetic _hero fantasy_ to even pay attention to her _sister_.

One day, Mother Cordelia left and never came back. One day, only Mama Sumia's pegasus came back. Cynthia cut her hair short, shorter than Kjelle's, even. 

"When we were really young, Mama Sumia used to braid flowers into our hair. She'd tell us fortunes with the leftover petals, then we'd braid up the manes of our Pegasi," Cynthia said. She bit her lip in reminiscence. They were chapped, just like her wind-bitten skin, and rough nails. Cynthia had set aside her dresses, gone to spend all her time with Owain, and left Severa behind. 

"Come to think of it, you don't cry when you brush your hair anymore," Cynthia said.

Cynthia yelped as Severa pulled the comb through her hair. "Ouch, careful!"

"Quit being a crybaby. You weren't the only one who lost a mother, you know," Severa said.

"You're heartless, a complete ice queen!"

 

"You, you shut up!" Severa said. "I know you think I'm some she-devil you can vanquish in your _stupid make believe games_ , but I have feelings, and _I_ didn't get amnesia. I remember it as well as you do, even when I don't want to," Severa said.

It hurt more, deep down, cut to the quick when Cynthia wasn't talking. When a harsh word had gotten too deep. Twist the knife a little deeper. 

"Sometimes I think Morgan is lucky," Severa said. It almost sounded like an apology. A peace offering pushed between them. She hated how easy she flushed, just like Mama Sumia. 

"Me too," Cynthia said. She twisted a cherry-red pigtail between her fingers, tangling up what Severa had just brushed clean.

"But then I remember the good times. I wouldn't want to lose all of them, even if I had to go through all the pain all over again."

And they both knew this wasn't an if, but when. This time's Sumia and Cordelia might have looked like their mothers, but they never would be theirs to keep. They'd go on to have their own children. Better ones without desperate gripping fears and insecurities. Without all the broken pieces that had been patched together so many times, that surfaced as nightmares and dashed dreamed, and a lack of belief under every attempt at hope. This world's Severa wasn't even born yet, and she already hated her.

But in those seconds, the flower scent of Cynthia's hair made her remember. For a very short while, between the Risen attacks, Mama Sumia had fought to bring beauty into their life. Bloodied flowers to be woven into flower crowns. But the beauty had gone, and it was only in her moments of primping that she could feel good about herself, and remember the days when hidden away in their safe tower, where no Risen could ever reach them, they had all been fairy dream princesses.

So many things had annoyed her back then. Nicknames she hated that she would later treasure as last remnants, but only behind closed doors, where no one could see her cry.

2\. A Lost Past.

Mama Sumia was a benevolent goddess, or at least that was how Cynthia described her. An avenging force who kept all Risen out of their tower, who braided flowers into their hair and whispered fortunes with blood-stained gauntlets. Severa could never find Cordelia outside of the duty, the perfect tragic Pegasus Knight who had lost two sets of armies and come back less alive every time. 

A palisade of bones and wood surrounded the tower. Feathers and stone, flowers and ash were woven inside. Cynthia always believed in the walls, the tower, and most of all, their mothers. Even then, Severa was more cynical. Cynthia always believed in everything; Severa was left with all the bitterness. Holed up in the remains of the castle, guarding the last remains of the king. She didn't see a loyal knight, but the traces of too close mourning.

The world outside their tower was bleak, a gray sky apocalypse in the making. But Mama Sumia put up flowered curtains from their overgrown clothes.

Even as the Risen attacks increased, as Chrom fell, as the dreams faded, she never expected the day would come when the tower would fall and all she would have was a pegasus who came back with no rider.

Children never expect the worst, not even her. But she hadn't been a child that long. 

3\. A Found Future.

 _Meet you at the meadows!_ was all she had said before going off before Severa could even decently trim her wild hair. Despite the innocuous seeming surroundings, Severa kept her hand towards her sword hilt. Just because the meadow looked peaceful now and she could still hear birds singing didn't mean it would stay that way. 

A pegasus landed with no rider. For a second, every memory came back. A bloody saddle, the sight of Cynthia's tears. The vision that blurred with her own tears.

She reached out and gripped the bridle.

"Tell me where she is. Tell me she's all right," Severa said, her voice halting, a stutter starting. "D-don't you dare fail your rider again, you, you damn---"

The pegasus nickered softly, and rubbed against her hand. Mama Sumia used to say she was a natural. 

Cynthia crashed in, her attempt at a 'heroic' entry more a farce than usual. But she simply dusted herself off and laughed. She was always laughing, like she didn't remember, like her hope had overcome the pain.

How stupid of her to get all worried over nothing. 

"There! You found Prince Shadowdarkness of Sparkfire!" Cynthia took the bridle from her, not even noticing the hint of redness at the corner of Severa's eyes. She buried herself against the horse's mane. She never cared if she came out smelling like she belonged in a barn.

Severa rolled her eyes. "Please don't tell me you named Mama Sumia's pegasus _that_."

"Owain helped me thing of a name. A hero isn't complete without a mighty steed. He helped me name my spear, too. _The Stabbening of Stabbiness_."

"The Stabbening? _Please_ tell me you're joking," Severa said.

"It's still a work in process. You can't just come up with the right name for your mighty steed and sword on the first try!"

"Tch. That so pathetic, it isn't worth the effort it'd take to make a comeback," Severa said.

Mama Sumia and Mother Cordelia sailed above in the skies. A practice drill on a clear day. If she focused, she could almost pretend that the gray golden days were back. That her mother was back and loved her all along, that peace was here. But Severa never pretended long. She was too old for such games. 

Even as a child, she could never bring herself to hope that much.

"Look at them!" Cynthia said. She made a great arc with her hand.

Mama Sumia never tripped in air. There she was graceful, joining Cordelia's side like royalty returned to their domain. Even something as simple as a training round was made serious, stoic, and flawless. All Severa could see in herself was how she didn't measure up.

And no one ever let her forget it. Least of all herself.

They'd become indistinct, up among the clouds. Red hair flying. Circling the skies like some courtship dance. Mother Cordelia led the practice charge. Her spear raised. Every little bit of her was so disgustingly perfect. Severa turned away.

"Wooow. Mama Sumia and Mother Cordelia are so good! I'll have to work extra hard to be half as heroic as they are!"

"They aren't our mothers, you know. They haven't even gotten the blessing' from Naga, yet. They probably can't even wait to be rid of us."

Clouds were spattered across the sky. A clear, sunny day. What a deceptively beautiful day. Sometimes this past world was so beautiful, it only made the bitterness in Severa well up even more. It would never be hers.

The wind caught Cynthia's cherry-red pigtails. She looked down from the sky, from their not-mothers, never-mothers, and back to reality.

"I know," she said. There was no belief in her voice, no heroes and hope and destiny. 

"But I want to horde up all the memories, even if they aren't of my real moms. Because....I'm never going to see our moms again."

And the unspoken _or these versions of them. When this is all over, we'll be nothing but in the way. Better off to disappear. Better off to let them pretend like you were a fever dream._

The unspoken thing she just couldn't get through Cynthia's thick skull. She'd have to watch her sister's heart break all over again when the end came. Severa was no good at comfort or picking up the pieces, but someone had to do it.

"You always were a fool like that. If you haven't guessed already, life is just going to let you down."

"You're wrong," Cynthia said.

They landed across the meadow and dismounted. It was just close enough to hear a raised voice. Severa went silent. Cynthia got that adoring look again, the kind she just kept tripping into.

As Sumia was bending to pick a flower, she almost toppled over. But Cordelia caught Sumia before she fell. "Be careful, now."

"I try," Sumia said. "But I have two left feet."

"You're suited to the air, like a fish to water," Cordelia said.

"Maybe," Sumia said with a sigh.

Cordelia didn't draw away immediately. They smiled, intimate, a shared moment. It was a pale reflection of the kind of gentle touches she'd see between her own mothers. The ones lost to time, nothing but bone and ash in a doomed timeline.

But the moment was set aside by them. Ruining everything for Cordelia and letting her down was Severa's greatest talent, after all.

"Would you like your fortune told? I picked three new daisies just for it," Sumia said. She smiled hopefully, flowers clutched inside her gauntlet.

"I do!" Cynthia said. 

Flower petals fell down. "One, two...oh, this says you'll be lucky in love," Sumia said. 

Cynthia giggled. "And? What does it say about my heroism? Am I going to get a great sidekick, or a heroic rival on the way?"

Severa rolled her eyes. "His name is Owain, and we're quarantining the patheticness by putting all the _failure_ in one place."

"He's a great hero, a scion of the ages!" Cynthia protested.

"No, that's not right," Sumia said. She bent to pluck another flower. She murmured parts of the fortune until she got the desired result.

"You'll save the day, the flowers say so," Sumia said. 

She hadn't seen this side of her mother. The one who tripped, who refused to take a bad fate. It still was a strange comparison to the blood-spattered battle maiden she had known.

But she saw some of the same things. Even then, she'd made fortunes before every battle, every time she left. The leftover petals had gotten into her hair, and always left a deep sweet smell. She'd tried to save some and press them between books. The smell was never as brilliant as then. She couldn't tell if it was time or nostalgia.

"And you, Severa?" Sumia said.

"You don't have to bother. I'm not a child," Severa said.

If the fortune was worth anything, it'd say she'd trip today. She wouldn't ever be good enough for any damn thing. She'd be looked over, and most of all, she wouldn't be loved in the end. No matter how much she primped, no matter how hard she worked.

Cordelia had flowers braided into her hair. Maybe Sumia could even get her to let the wall of icy professionalism down for a second.

"Oh," Cordelia said. Severa tensed at that. It was always _oh, just Severa_. Just that bitter girl who was so clumsy and useless that she couldn't even put swords to the whetstone without breaking them all.

"So sorry to disappoint you by being born. You don't have to pretend. I know I'm not the daughter you wanted. You wanted perfect _Lucina_ as a daughter, but instead, you got me. I can't even boil water without burning it, I break all the spears I try and sharpen, and I _trip_."

"You take after Sumia, then," Cordelia said. Her tragic perfection softened into something past the professionalism, past the legacy of the entire knights lost. 

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't love Chrom once, and so did Sumia---"

"Then you're admitting it. You settled, and we, we're just nothing," Severa cut in.

Cordelia—Severa couldn't bring herself to think of her as mother—rested her hand on Severa's shoulder. "Don't sell yourself short. You both were a gift. And what your mother and I have is more than what we ever felt for Chrom."

"You're wrong. I wasn't. I'll never be. _She_ will be, but I---"

"We wouldn't put you out into the cold, we'd keep you warm---" Sumia said.

"Well, good for me---"

"She means that we care very much for you. Even if you aren't technically our daughters from this time, we think of you as such, and only want the best for you. And...we don't want either of you to leave," Cordelia said.

Cynthia's Pegasus nudged her.

"See?" Sumia laughed. "You're a _natural._ "

In that moment, she could see how the pieces fit together. How this Sumia would become her Sumia, and how this Severa would never have to know what it felt like to lose a mother to a Risen attack if they managed to succeed.

But Severa was selfish. She couldn't just keep it all in and be happy for their real daughter. A girl who'd have her face and name, but who would probably smile. She probably wouldn't even trip as much.

Through it all, Sumia reached out for her. "The flowers say we're going to love you forever, no matter what happens."

The tears came unbidden past every defense she had built up. She hugged herself, the words _Mother, Mama_ lost amid her tears. To most, being nestled against a breastplate wouldn't be a comfort, but to Severa, the smell of metal was like coming home.


End file.
